A Second Chance at Love
by Strength of Spirit
Summary: After James was supposed to die, he wakes up in America, where his magical community is but a book series. He's taken a job as an actor, to play a character in the movies, to find Lily, who he's sure is also in this strange alternate universe. Three year later, at the age of sixteen, he's found her. But, there is a catch. She doesn't remember anything about their past lives.
1. My Death

Prologue

"Lily! Take Harry and run! Run!" I shout at my wife madly.

She and Harry need to stay safe, _no matter what_. My life here, does not matter. Lily turns towards me with a wild, terrified expression on her face, squeezes my hand once, and dashes up the stairs toward the nursery, and our son. I watch her disappear to the floor above, then I turn to face the door. That's probably the last time I'll see her in this life. I think of all the missed opportunities, all the mistakes I made, that I regret more than anything. But I can hear footsteps coming closer, and closer now. I curse. Voldemort, the most powerful dark wizard alive is here, and I'm standing without a wand.

Turning and racing to the couch, I snatch it up, and then spin around to face the door. It shatters under the impact of an overpowered spell. Bits of wood fly around the living room, and the handle nearly hits my face. I stand my ground. I will die, I'm sure, but I will die standing. A foot comes through the gaping hole in the wall, where the entrance to my home used to be. A dark robed figure follows, and before I know it, the cruelly smirking face of Lord Voldemort comes through the doorway, into the one place he isn't supposed to be able to find.

I curse the betrayer in my head. Peter, you slimy rat. Then, I spur myself into action with the thought of protecting Lily and Harry. A green streak of light comes flashing towards me. My Auror instincts take over, and I dodge it. Ducking and rolling on the floor of my own living room, I throw a curse back. Stupefy, a spell that served me well the last time I fought this monster. A shield like solid air erupts from the tip of Voldemort's wand, and I have to sidestep hastily to avoid the rebound. As I straighten up again, I notice, almost as if I'm an outsider to my body, a green light shooting for my torso.

I know it, this is the end. Like in slow motion, the curse closes in toward me, and I don't try to dodge. Then it hits me, and it's over. As the last vestiges of life leave my body, I try to whisper, I love you, to Lily, one last time, and then, nothing. I don't know how long I floated there, in nothing, void of all coherent thought. It could have been seconds, years, centuries, I just existed there, and then, something odd happened. You know that feeling you get when you stand up too quickly, and it's like, whoa, head rush? It felt a little like that. But, I blinked my eyes to an unfamiliar room, then I realized. _I woke up._ How odd.


	2. We Meet Again

Lily

"Lil-ly!" Petunia called. I groaned, and pulled my blanket over my head. We were in California on vacation from school, and she wanted to see her idol, crush, and future husband, (in her dreams,) actor and womanizer James Potter. He was famous for playing Neville Longbottom in the movies of the famous book series, which was appropriately named _Neville_ _Longbottom_. The books were very good, and so were the movies, with the exception of James Potter. He was filthy rich, my age, and every time he was seen in public, he pulled a red haired girl into his house. That same girl would be seen the following day, crying about how James Potter had told her "she wasn't the girl he was looking for." Now, you would think that Petunia would have learned from the_ ten_ news reports on those poor, (dumb,) girls, but noo, she's still in _luurve_ with him. So that's why we were going to see him at the Hollywood Christmas Parade, when they show off all their best actors like trophies. I wonder if he'll pick Petunia this time. That would be funny. She's wearing a red wig, just in case.

I pushed myself out of he hotel bed, and grabbed my book, put on my t-shirt and skirt, then tumbled down the stairs. Petunia was at the bottom, nearly red in the face."You're late! You _know _the parade starts at three, and if we don't get there soon, James won't be able to see me!" I rolled my eyes. It was eight in the morning. But Mum and Dad always favored Petunia because they thought that she was the perfect little trophy daughter, so that was why I had to get up now to see the parade. In my family, I was, well, the geek. I liked things that way. Much more freedom. And if you would believe it, my parents approved heartily of her dumb little crush on James Potter. My family's very, shall we put it, contrary. Oh well.

I could hear my parents bustling around in their room, which is right above the kitchen, where I was now trying to shove my face full of bagels before they forced me into a car to see" pretty perfect Potter." Petunia eyed me distastfully, herself daintily biting into a single slice of apple. I grinned at her with food in my mouth, just to gross her out. she looked away, and I went back to eating. At this time, my parents came rushing down the stairs, and my dear, dear sister got up to yell at them. They, unlike me, just nodded like little dogs obeying their master. If Petunia wasn't so full of herself, she would have made a good leader. Too bad she is so full of herself. The four of us piled into the rental car, Petunia with her face caked with makeup, me with my book, Mum and Dad just sliding in, still obeying commands. It was going to be a long drive to Hollywood.

* * *

><p>James<p>

I sat in the changing room, staring at myself in the mirror, remembering Lily; her perfect long red hair, her perfect large green eyes, her perfect little imperfection in the form of a birthmark on her neck. Lily was perfect, and I would do anything to find her.

I had woken up on a morning three years ago, with twenty one year old memories in a thirteen year old body. My first thought, " This is heaven." But in heaven you didn't live in an American orphanage, and certainly not in the form of the awkward kind of teenage boy. Later, I had taken a walk through the city to escape the old woman who apparently I was custody of, so I could look for Lily. Twelve hundred feet away from the door of the orphanage, I found myself dragged by an overdressed man into a studio of snobbies for an audition I didn't sign up for. I was supposed to play Neville Longbottom, Frank and Alice's baby boy. Except in this world, he was a book character. The casting directors gave me a script which I was supposed to read from. At that point, I was sure I wasn't dead. No one in heaven could be this annoying. But, I did it anyway, and by the end, all the girly men discussed something among themselves, and offered me a job as the next Hollywood star. I was about to reject the offer, but then I thought of Lily. If my face was on a million posters around the world, she would be able to find me! So I took the job.

Three years later, I still haven't found her. There were few things I was sure of in Godric's Hollow, that Lily loved me, that Harry was going to be safe, and that my friends and fellow members of the Marauders would never let me down. Also, that when people get hit by the Avada Kedavra, they die. Now, I'm questioning every single one of those things. If Peter hadn't let me down, how could Voldemort had gotten in? If I was hit by the Avada Kedavra, why was't I dead? If Harry was safe, why did Voldemort come to kill him? And most importantly, if Lily loved me, why hadn't she come looking for me? Of course, I didn't know if Lily was transported to this world as well, but I couldn't let myself dwell on that. If I did, I would go into deep depression and never come out. Without my Lilyflower, my life doesn't really have meaning. So my goal for every action, every minute of my life, was to be able to find Lily. I took the acting job so I could travel places to look for her, I picked up those girls to see if they were Lily. I sleep, I eat so if I find her, I can keep her safe.

Now my manager, a sweet old lady that I thought of as my caring grandmother is knocking on the door, reminding me that the Parade starts in ten minutes. I sighed. Another try to find Lily. I tucked in my shirt, straightened out my robes, and cleaned my hair with some wandless magic. Then I marched my way onto the Neville Longbottom float.

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

As soon as we arrived at the grounds, Petunia started shoving her way through the crowd of girls looking to get a chance with some celebrity or another, and I was dragged through to act as her bodyguard. After two hours hour of shoving and kicking and screaming on her part, Petunia and, consequently, me, made it to the edge of the ribbon holding the fans back. We got there just in time for the start of the parade, which we could see because it was flat ground all the way to the beginning point, where floats and security officers were gathered. Petunia finally stopped pulling me through the crowd and started ogling the "hot" boys. I leaned on the rope to read, becoming engrossed in Pride and Prejudice, sweeping my hair to one side to let the sunlight shine on the pages. After only what seemed like fifteen minutes, I heard the noise level around me ecsalate from roaring to booming like everlasting thunder. And I only noticed that because I felt a tap on my shoulder.

* * *

><p>James<p>

Running and jumping onto the moving float, I felt Gran, which is really what I call my manager, grab me and scold me for being late before letting the float leave the starting ground. Climbing to the top, I scanned the crowd for any natural redheads. Having decided that I had some sort of affinity for red haired girls, a lot of them had dyed their hair or put on wig. But I could tell that they were fake. None of them had Lily's dark, fiery color. Suddenly spotting something that looked natural down at the left, I climbed down from the peak. I heard all the girls' shrill voices screaming as I did. It was real, but not Lily's Irish red. I cursed my bad eyesight. Something bright flashed into my eyes. I took a closer look at it. A book! Someone was reading a book at a parade of the most famous people in the world! the girl reading it had bright red hair. Real, I noticed. And a lot like Lily's when she was younger. Scanning again, I noticed a lily shaped birthmark on the side of the girl's neck, again, like Lily's. I had to see for myself.

Every time before, when I went down, I invited the girl on a date to see if she was the real Lily. Ever time, she wasn't. Still, I had to take that chance. Signaling to the float driver to slow down a little, I jumped down and skirted around the girls' hands reaching for me. I pulled a few autographs out of my pocket, and tossed them to the wind. That always got the crowd of girls out of the way. The bimbos scrambled for the scraps, leaving the red-haired girl the only one in a wide ten-foot radius. I tapped her on the shoulder, and she turned to look at me.

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

I turned to see a pair of handsome hazel eyes staring at me intensely. I'd seen them somewhere before, and I stared back to see if I could remember. When he didn't break away, I asked him," Do I know you?" Don't look at me like that, you. I really wanted to know. Normally, I can memorize a face even if I see them for a second, and it's sometimes odd when I say hi to someone I saw once and they look at me oddly. I don't normally forget faces.

"Would you like to come to dinner with me?" the boy asked. Well, that was random. But since I really wanted to know who he was, and he _was_ kind of cute, I said,"Sure." Then he grabbed my hand, which surprised me, and ducked around the security guards and pulled me onto the float. "Errr, I'm not really sure we should be on here." I reprimanded him. He smiled at me. It was kind of nice." What do you mean?" he answered. " This is my float, after all." Then, I realized what he was wearing. A wizard's robe, and we were standing on a castle float.

* * *

><p>James<p>

The girl who looked a lot like Lily turned when I tapped her shoulder. She turned around and looked at me with a kind of recognition. "Do I know you?" Maybe after years of searching, this really was Lily. That stranger game used to be something that we did every time I came back from an Auror trip. Those four words were the first words she'd ever said to me, back in first year. Knowing full well the disappointment this could lead to if I had gotten the wrong girl, I invited her on a date. She said yes! All of the disappointment I had felt over the years would be worth it if this really was Lily. So I pulled her onto the float, and she looked around, analyzing the elements around her, and I could see that a conclusion formed in her head. "You're Petunia's crush, aren't you? That womanizer James Potter." I felt my heart rise, then plummet. It was a very odd feeling. On the bright side, if this wasn't Lily, then there was no one in the world that could make it this close. On the dark side, she didn't know me as her husband, only "that womanizer James Potter."

"Hey, do you think you could sign something for my older sister? Then_ let. Me. Down_?" She hissed the last words at me. "What about that date you agreed to?" I asked, knowing that Lily's sense of duty to her promises would force her to say. She huffed. "One time I get a cute boy before Petunia, and it turns out to be you." I looked, playfully offended, at her. This was just like good old Hogwarts. Bringing her inside the float control room, I pulled out the only chair for her. She sat down while I leaned against the wall. "So, what's your name?" I tried to make conversation. "Lily Evans." She replied sullenly. My heart leaped and soared in my chest. I had found her, I had! But.. she didn't know me. "Hi, I'm James Potter." She rolled her eyes. " Oh, I know that. Judging by the fact that you are on a Hogwarts float dressed as Neville Longbottom and that you've just dragged another red-headed girl, me, out of the crowd, you're either James Potter or a clone. And since cloning is neither legal nor possible, I'd say that you were James Potter." That's my Lily. Logical, hot tempered, oh, and the eye rolling. Lily loved eye rolling, particularly at me. I wondered, suddenly, if she maybe had memories, just had them locked up in her head. Maybe there was a trigger. " Hey, you wouldn't happen to know a Harry Potter, would you? You know, a baby, green eyes, black hair?" Again recognition. "Is this a dumb pickup line?" I shook my head." Well then, if I had a son I always wanted to name him Harry. Wait. Potter?" She narrowed her eyes at me. "Are you _sure_ this isn't just a dumb pickup line?" I smiled. Too much like my old Lily. It seemed that she took this to mean it was a pickup line, and she huffed and turned away. At this point, I noticed that the float was slowing down. Then it stopped altogether. Gran opened the door, walked in and seemed surprised to see Lily, but she reverted back to normal Gran quickly. "Well then, James, I see you've found another girl." She said gruffly. Gran never liked my girls, but she doesn't seem to hate Lily. Hmm. "Come on, this float's a rental." Lily quickly got up and headed for the door. I grabbed her hand and followed her. Now for that date...


	3. Life

**Hi, I'm back. Spirit, if you don't know me already. I worked really hard on this, but I haven't looked it over yet, but I really wanted to get it up. So, bear with me , if you would. If someone with some expeerience could beta this for me, that would be great. Anyways...**

**ON to the story! **

**Thanks for reading,**

**Spirit**

Lily

Helping me off the float, Potter, or the big moron, as I now preferred to think of him, led me off to a building on the side of the starting ground. We entered a room, near the west side, where the sun looked to be setting soon. The parade had lasted nearly four hours, though the time spent with Potter had seemed pretty short. Potter, not James. Calling a prat by his first name would only make his huge head bigger. I was lead, rather forcefully, because I was halfheartedly trying to escape through another exit, to a room marked "Hogwarts' House."

"That's what we call our main congregational area." Potter explained to me.

"Oooh. Using big words now, are we?" I replied sarcastically.

He ignored me. Through the main room, where the operators and other characters on the float were talking and laughing, I was led to a room that was surprisingly clean, labeled Potter. That was odd. It was organized in the exact way I would have done it. Somehow, I didn't think that Mr. I'm-too-famous-to-care-about-hurting-girls'-feelings would have even cleaned his room, not when there was staff to do it. Well, I guess, since I was going to have to survive a date with him, better work on being civil.

"Erm, nice, room." What? I gave it a shot, didn't I?

"Thanks." We lapsed into an awkward silence again. I could tell that he was thinking really hard, though about what, I either wanted to stand close enough to hear his thoughts, or wanted to clap my hands over my ears and sing my ABCs if he told me. Which, I wasn't really sure. Meanwhile, though, I would use this time to go over events. So, A) I'm dragged onto a float by a teen celebrity and Petunia's crush. B) He decides on an odd pick up line. It sounded kind of like a sincere question, but seriously? Who asks _anyone_ that? Do you know a boy that has your eyes and my last name? Random much? Then again, this whole day's been random. Because C) a teen celebrity drags me into a room that seems in the exact order I'd do, (_what, is he a stalker?)_, and now I'm here, in an awkward silence. That git drags me to a place I don't know, then decides to just watch me like a zoo exhibit, does he? My _life_ is so odd. You know, I can't remember anything before waking up in my room on my thirteenth birthday, November first, wondering _where's James,_ then hearing Petunia call me for breakfast and school. Huh. Now that I actually think about it, I've never remembered wondering about any James on the weird day until now. Or realizing that I don't remember anything before my thirteenth birthday. Did that sound confusing? Yeah, confused really describes me right now. Must be something wrong with me today. By now, though, Potter looks like he wants to talk. Better listen before I miss my escape ticket.

* * *

><p>James<p>

_Recap, Potter. _I thought to myself. Hmm. Must be leftovers from my Auror training. Okay, found Lily's body, lost Lily's love, and trust, and memory, and...Wow. I've lost a lot of things today. That would be unacceptable in the field. Eh. I'm not in the field anymore. I should just focus on the present. Lily looks like she's thinking, and then I realize, I've asked her out. That sure was a split second decision. But, a date would help to get her to like me a little more. Or a lot. Personally I'm hoping for the latter, though dreams are for fools. Whatever. Lily makes me a fool. But, to get her to like me, even one tiny little bit, would be beneficial. I'm going to have to take her on the best date she's ever been on. Maybe find out if she still has magic. Magic... That's it! I can take her to Diagon Alley! Except if she doesn't still have her magic, I'm dead by the Ministry. Maybe not Diagon Alley. A little too dangerous. Well, I would ask Lily, but I don't think she would answer. Eh. Might as well give it a try. How to phrase this? She asked _me_ out the first time around, and after that, it was just kind of accepted that it would be same time, same place every Hogsmeade weekend. It never got boring, though. Lily's too fun to make anything boring. Except schoolwork. Lily was scary about that. Maybe I should take her to an empty place, first. See if she does have her magic. Yeah, I'll do that. "Hey Lily? How would you like to go on a picnic?" Then I remember! Lily loves flowers, only mostly wild ones, like black-eyed susans, and daisies. I wonder if Gran could help me with that. Hey, there's a meadow a few miles away, where no one would find us for a million years. Gran showed me last year, when we came to this parade. Lily, the old one, would love that place. I hope that this Lily will, too. Yeah. Okay, proceed delicately.

"Hey Lily?" Great opening, James.

"Yes?"

"Erm...", I looked down and scuffed my toe against the ground.

"You know that date? I was thinking maybe we could just go right now, maybe have a picnic?" I crossed my toes. Lily would see my fingers with her super sharp eyes.

"Sure." She answered in a monotone. Clearly, she just wanted to get this over with.

"Great!" Mission accomplished. That was easy. A little too easy.

I grabbed her hand and led her out of my room, back through the common room, and toward the kitchens. Even though I live with the Yankees in the United States now, my Marauder skills were not lost. I found the kitchens three parades ago. I know everyone here. I'm just here so often.

"Hey Maggie?"

"Hello mon cochon." Maggie smiled at me. She's a pretty woman of around forty, and the best cook in Hollywood. She's really nice, except for the fact that she calls me her pig. A title I've earned, I suppose.

"Could you make just some spaghetti for us, please?" Maggie's noticed Lily, and glares at me disapprovingly. Another poor girl he's going to throw away, that's what her eyes show she's thinking. She doesn't comment, though. She firmly believes that employees should not question employers. She nods yes to my question.

"Thanks." Maggie's great.

"When it's finished, could you leave it in a bag outside my room? I'm taking Lily on a tour."

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

Potter leads me outside of the kitchen, (god only knows how he found that place, it's like, invisible from the outside,) and through a hallway, decorated with hundreds of awards for various celebrities. Then he takes me to what seems to be an empty studio, with a piano, a guitar, and a bunch of funny switches and knotches for recordings. The grand piano is beautiful. It looks really really old, and the wood grains that spiral across the top form amazing patterns. I know how to play piano. My family doesn't know that I do, but my friend Amy does, and she takes lessons. Every time I go to her house, she shows me everything she's learned. Suddenly, I get this overwhelming urge to try this instrument out. I've never played on anything but Amy's keyboard. As if noticing this, Potter speaks up. "Go on, you can try. You are a guest, after all." He smiles. It's actually kind of cute, before I realize, it's James Potter. But, I give him a little smile, anyway, to show thanks.

Sitting down on the piano stool, I run my hands over the keys first. Then, I gently tap the middle C. It resonates clearly, like a little bell. this room had amazing acoustics. I know what to play, now. The Moonlight Sonata, the first piece I'd ever heard Amy play. Starting off with the left hand notes, I lose myself in the music. This piano sings under my hands. Beautiful.

* * *

><p>James<p>

If one thing could be said about my Lily, it was that she had a knack for the arts. She could capture swirling emotions on paper, as a story, or a painting. And she sure did know how to play. I snuck over to the recording panel, and quietly hit the record button as she began. Then, leaning against the wall, I let her music wash over me. This is probably the best I've ever heard her play, though that may just be because I haven't heard her music in years. It hits me, just now, that this is the first time I've seen her in _years, _yet all I can do with her is pretend to be a stranger. My life, the definition of messed up. Lily hits her final, resounding note, and I stop the recording. I'll get a hard copy of it later. I look back at Lily, and smile. Lily's wearing her peaceful expression, the one that appears whenever she's doing something she loves. I used to be able to see it all the time, when we went out to dinner or for a walk, but something tells me that I won't be seeing it for a long time.

"Nice playing," I try to compliment her. Lily tuns a rosy pink. She still doesn't like to recieve praise. Shame.

"Thanks," she replies gruffly. Her barriers slide up again.

"Well, would you like to continue on our tour?" I offer my arm to her, and try to turn on my Potter male charm. Which, I've just remembered, only serves to make Lily… close up more. A sour expression graces her delicate features. I remember that one, too, now. Well, clearly charming Lily this time around will be just as hard as last time. I'm up to the challenge.

Lily takes my arm, albeit reluctantly, and I lead us both to the next place of interest in the Hollywood cast's temporary encampment. The auditorium, where people are still filming, even though technically, we're on vacation. Movies all have deadlines, I suppose. Green screens line the walls, and the curtains are open to their fullest extent. Actors wearing robes and carrying sticks are pointing at each other, and shouting nonsense. Then I realize. Oops. I'm supposed to be filming, too. Better pull a duck and run.

Lily's staring around in awe at the cameras and actors, trying to absorb it all.

"Yeah, this is my life," I tell her, and she gives me an almost sympathetic look. Almost.

All right, phase one of operation avoid angry director, duck.

"Now, if you don't mind, Lily, I've got more places to show you." I think Lily's figured out why I'm in a rush to get out, but for some reason, is not shouting "He's over here!" to my boss. Interesting. She follows me, and now I've got to think. Because this is only a temporary residence, there are really only two places that are even remotely interesting. So, I don't really have anything to show Lily. Well, better go pick up the picnic. Lily and I make our way back through the halls of the building, and stop in front of my room. The basket's there, and I hoist it onto my shoulder, then turn to Lily.

"Well, how about that date? No time like the present."

* * *

><p><strong>Hehe. The date next, in Lily's POV. what are your thoughts? Any reviewers will get a sneek peek at the date, and motivate me to write faster. So R&amp;R!<strong>

**Thanks from,**

**Spirit**


	4. Magic

**Hi, I'm Spirit, and I'm ba-ack! First off, thanks to my lovely, lovely reviewers for the last part, MSupernatural and GabbieGrl, and I suppose Jess, but I forced her to, she stole my pencil and had to pay me back. Anyway, thanks a million to you guys! So, this chapter. Lily and James go out, for the first time for Lily, the millionth for James. Maybe she'll discover her magic! Who knows? Oh, right, I do. Well, I've got like, an hour to write this before piano, so love you guys who are reading on all the way to here, and on to the story!**

**I don't own Harry Potter. If I did, I wouldn't have time to write this.**

* * *

><p><em>Lily<em>

Potter picks up the paper bag containing the dinner from the front of his dressing room door, and we continue on our "merry way." (Not) I follow him, refusing to take his hand, out a back door of some sorts, which opens to the forest, and a tiny dirt path through the thick forest. This is the part of my time with Potter when my guard must be up. I'm not going to end up on the cover of some gossip magazine with the word REJECT printed in red capital letters across my picture. No way.

Potter's trying a variety of ways to make conversation with me, from asking about my family to commenting on the weather. I'm just ignoring him.

Present company excluded, though, my surroundings are beautiful. The path is lined with a variety of trees and shrubs, from old, scarred oaks that seem to sweep the sky to young pine plants, as small and as seemingly delicate as babies. The five o'clock sun reaches through the trees, only thin rays making it through the thick forest canopy, forming little puddles of yellow on the ground, making the whole setting look as if it came straight out of a cheesy romance novel.

You know, two lovers, walking a forest path, whispering secrets and delighting simply in each other's presence. Same setting, completely different characters.

As I was thinking, Potter was still trying to begin a conversation. I glare at him. There. That stopped him. Now, we're just walking down the trail in silence, him occasionally glancing at me, me just steadfastly ignoring him. "We're almost there." He interrupts the silence, and I look away from counting pebbles on the ground, to up ahead, where the glimmer of sunlight becomes a pool.

Another few steps, and we're there. The sight takes my breath away. It's a tiny little meadow, ringed by rose bushes, the floor layered with long, lush green grass, and wildflowers growing all over. Potter, sensing my cold attitude towards him, (finally,) only tentatively touches my shoulder and nods toward a patch of grass devoid of blossoms, on the edge of the ring. He sets up a cliché checkered cloth on the ground, and we sit down. A metal container is removed from the bag, and at this point, I decide, I need guard still up for charm-your-heart-out-then-stomp-on-it Potter, but in the meantime, I should be polite. I don't really want to be that girl that's mean to her date, but still stuffing her face with his food.

* * *

><p>James<p>

Alright. Honestly, I'm getting a little frustrated. I tried to get Lily's favorite food, I tried to take her on a perfect date, I tried, I tried, I _tried_, and she's still not talking, or even _looking_, to me.

"Potter," And, did I mention, she calls me by my surname, like first through sixth year? "where did you grow up?" Wow. totally unexpected. Miss Evans the Silent is talking to me, willingly, too.

"I grew up in an orphanage in London." I answer. I need to seize this chance as best I can.

Huh. Now she seems genuinely interested, though the original question wasn't sincere.

"Really? I thought most actors would have familial influences begin their careers."

"I just got randomly picked off the streets." I shrug, swallowing my next words. _I must have some exceptional talent_. Lily would not appreciate signature Potter cockiness at this phase.

"Is that legal?" She asks, curiously.

"It is if your earnings go to the government. Since I'm technically their charge, I pay them a part of my earnings."

"That's a little, unfair, isn't it? Taking your money and not giving you anything in return?"

"That's how it works. I just suck it up and deal with it." I smile grimly. We settle back into an awkward silence. I remove the foil cover of the container, push part of the pasta onto a plate from the bag, a little onto a second plate, and I hand one to Lily. Each of us takes a fork, and we dig into the (delicious) meal, neither bothering to make conversation anymore.

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

The spaghetti looks wonderful, and tastes even better. Potter's friend Maggie sure can cook. Around our little clearing in the woods, bushes of wild roses overflow over each other, cascading like a waterfall of pink, and green, and white. Potter does know how to romance a girl, though that probably comes from three years of romancing different girls. I hate to admit it, but speaking with Potter is rather comfortable, if not pleasant. Still, I must maintain my distance. His reputation speaks for itself.

I think he knows I love the flowers, somehow, because he suddenly reaches over my shoulder and plucks a bud from the bush behind me. I lean away from his arm, to avoid contact. Physical contact, for me, with a boy, is rather, uncomfortable, shall I say? The bud's a pale pink, halfway between the white roses in my garden at home and the bright magenta that most flowers in the wild seem to have. Special.

Potter plucks the stem off, and puts the flower in the palm of his hand. It seems almost wilted, the petals soft and curled. "Do you believe in magic, Lily?" Another odd, and stupid, pick up line, Do you believe in magic? Seriously? But his eyes are boring into mine, and I feel a compelled to answer it as if it's a sincere question. "Of course not," I scoff. He seems disappointed, like he was hoping for some other answer. Where's the proof that there's magic, of all things? His mind must function like a little boy's. But then, his face takes on a determined expression, and he smiles,_ smiles_ at me.

He closes his fist, and then, when he opens it, the flower's a flower bud, rather than a wilted rose. Potter looks at me expectantly, as if he expects me to jump up clapping, or something. So he knows a few optical illusions. So what? I tell him so.

He shakes his head, disappointed again, then places the bud in the center of his palm once more. The bud rests lightly there, just a normal flower bud. Where's the other flower? He shouldn't be pulling flower buds off bushes like that. Leaves nothing for the next generation. I ask him. He gives me a mysterious look. "What do you mean? It's right here. Watch." And then he turns his eyes to the pink flower. He's concentrating, rigid as a slab of wood. I look at the bud, too. There has to be something special about it, to have him concentrating so hard. Then, before my eyes, it begins to change. The outer layer opens up very slightly, so little that I think it must have been a trick of the light. Then, the outer petals flip outward. The light can't be able to trick anyone that well. The rose continues to open, its color deepening, petals separating, one by one. Then it grows taller, until I realize, it's growing a stem. But it's still fully upright. Gravity has no effect on it whatsoever.

By the time the changing is over, it has a six inch thornless stem, and it's a beautiful ruby red. Potter grins, and hands it to me. I'm stunned, and I take it. Then it registers in my mind. You know how, when you were a tiny kid, you used to wish to be able to live in a fairytale, like all the Disney princesses? I take that back. This, is downright scary. I have a prince that's a player, and a sorcerer, chasing after me. The sorcerer is still looking at me expectantly, waiting for a reaction. I give him a reaction, all right. I run.

* * *

><p>James<p>

Now I'm the one stunned, watching Lily run away. Nothing I haven't seen before, of course, in previous lifetimes, but now, in this lifetime, I thought, somehow, that it'd be different. Maybe I thought that Lily would have some subconscious recollection of our past life, that we shared. Maybe I thought that I could trigger it. No way was it going to be that easy. Now I know. Magic scares Lily. Of course. It would've scared me to death, too, if I hadn't grown up with it. I acted too fast. Classic dumb Potter.

* * *

><p><strong>Soo, what'd you think? Worst writing you've ever read? Why? Grammar, spelling errors? Facts not matching up? American english? Give me some feedback, please.<strong>

**R&R!**

**Thanks,**

**Spirit**


	5. Lost

**Hi guys, I'm here again! Sorry for the late update, I have a huge piano competition in three weeks. Thanks to my reviewers, MSupernatural and GabbiGrl! Anyway, The next chapter! A little scare for Lily, and James. **

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><p>James<p>

_Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. Idiotidiotidiotidiot._ _Stupid stupid stupid. Stupidstupidstupidstupid._ I'm pretty much cursing myself with every synonym for brainless moron that exists right now, over and over again. I've just found her again, just found my love, and now I've chased her away with my stupid magic. Of course she wouldn't understand, she's essentially a _muggle_, for heaven's sake!

And now I've gone and scared her away. But I haven't spent all this effort on finding her just to let her go, now, have I? Potter men aren't like that. No, we go through with our plans 'till completion. I can't break that tradition now, can I? With that thought in mind, I set off to find her.

Oh wait a second, how do I do that? I can't like, cast a tracking charm without a wand now, can I? I really need to go and get myself one of those. Again, cursing myself. I was too busy wallowing in my stupid self-pity to notice which direction Lily went in.

In these woods, she could lose herself in the monotonous scenery of old trees. I don't suppose she took the trail back to the building we came from, would she? No, stubborn Lily would try own find her own way away from me, get as far as possible, even if it was through the trees.

Where she could get lost and never be found again. Easily. Oh god. _What have I done now? _

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

My day, has just screwed remarkably off track. I get kidnapped, taken on a half-way to nice date, then, my date's like, _Oh, by the way, I do magic. You know that one thing that not supposed to exist? It does now. He he, anyway, let's continue on with life._ Yeah, you would be scared, too. But, if he wanted to kill me or hurt me or something, couldn't he have done it as soon as we were alone? Why talk to me, feed me? He's probably fattening me up before he eats me. But even to myself, that sounds ridiculous.

Maybe running away wasn't such a good idea. I'm now standing in the middle of a forest, in nowhere. North, south, east, west? Trees, trees, trees, and more trees. That's not good. Why had it not occurred to me to just take the trail back to the building, and hijack a car to get away from the danger? Now, I've just escaped some sort of dark magic, only to find myself going in, like, circles, still in danger, of starvation, death from exposure, thirst, illness, injury. To put it simply, I think I was better off with the sorcerer now.

Something's digging into my hand. Looking down, I see that for some odd reason or the other, I'm still holding the rose. Now, though, it's reverting back to the original light pink shade of color, and the stem's changing back to its original length. A bit of it falls to the ground.

I return to the major concern at hand. What am I going to do now? I'm lost, I admit, in a thick forest, no clue where I am, and in some sort of close proximity to a potentially dangerous sorcerer. _Genius, Lily, real genius. _

I laugh to myself when I remember the advice from the dumb girl on some Yankee TV show I watched last night. _Daddy says that when you're lost, hug a tree and yell for help._ Yeah right. Which tree should I hug? There's a wide variety of selections.

Should I just sit and wait for Potter to find me? Or try to find my own way out of here? Though I really want to try the latter option first, the former would probably be the most logical course of action. So, wait it is. At least I won't starve for eight weeks. But die of thirst? I have to find a water source.

The sky's darkening, and now, I realize, would Potter even want to go looking for me, the girl that's been nothing but impolite to him for the past few hours, despite the fact that he's been trying to be civil, and risk losing himself in the dark? Something tells me that a regular guy wouldn't. It looks like I'm going to be spending a night under the stars. Or rather, the forest canopy. It's so thick, I can't see the stars.

How to find a water source? I close my eyes to listen for the sound of moving water, or anything, really, other than the endless rustling of leaves. That's really getting on my nerves. I think I hear someone calling in the distance. No, that was just my imagination. It's stopped now.

The pitter patter of water on rocks is very faint, but I can still hear it if I concentrate really hard. It's louder in my right ear than in my left, so I start walking in that direction. The woods don't really look as calm and dreamy as they did on my walk to the clearing, I notice. Now, they just look like there's danger lurking in every corner. Funny how different the same setting looks when you're in peril.

I try to follow the sound of the water, turning my head this way and that, then following the noise. It seems like all the fallen logs and mounds of jagged rock are placed there so that I get to trip over them on my way to the stream, and near the end I start to get really annoyed and kick one of them. It hurt. But, a few minutes later, I've finally made it to the stream. It's brown. Are you kidding me?

* * *

><p>James<p>

What to do,what to do? I know. I'll just wander around in these woods until I find her. That seems like a brilliant plan. Is there anything on her that I could trace? With a wandless spell? I don't think so. Every second wasted right now is a second less for Lily, so I need to think fast. What can I do without a wand? _Homenum Revelio_? But that can only cover so much. Still, it's better than sitting here, useless. I set off through the trees, determined, but with no idea where to go. Great.

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

Great. Dirty, polluted stream, still back at ground zero. I'm kneeling in the gravel by the water, staring into its depths, and wishing that it would reveal a map or something, anything that would get me out of this mess. The sharp rocks are digging into my knees, but at this point, I decide, I don't care anymore.

Imagine if Potter's magic could get me out of this. I'd be eternally grateful.

* * *

><p>James<p>

I've been combing the woods for about an hour now, still no Lily. I'm careful to follow the edge of the forest, though, so I always know where I am. I think I'm going in the wrong direction. I'm going to stray from the forest's edge for a little while, and go deeper. I think I'll just trace the dry stream bed in, so I can get out if I need to. I have no intention, however, of leaving without Lily.

"_Homenum Revelio_." I whisper. I wonder if calling out will help find her. Eh. I should try. "Lily! Lily!"

Then I trip over something. Stupid log. That hurt. But right in front of my (aching) face, is a rose petal, half red, half pink. On second thought, thanks, log. You're now my favorite log in the world.

Lily was here. Imagine the chances of that. Today must be my lucky day. "_Homenum Revelio_." Dang it. She left. But where would you want to go in the woods? I'm again back to square one, but pretty close.

Oh. I've got an idea. Outrageous, but an idea nevertheless. I'm going to try my own spell. Okay, think, Potter. Incantations are based off of Latin, I've learned this much from Lily. Creating spells really was her thing, as an Unspeakable and all. How would I be able to find the rest of the flower with a spell? Unite, the, parts? Yeah, that might work. How to translate that to Latin? Unite, it was like, Conto, Conha, Contraho! Yes, that was it. And parts, was, utrimque. I remember that one because I used to pronounce it urchin. It made Lily laugh. Contraho Utrimque. To turn that into a spell that doesn't require much power, end them in i sound. Contrahi Utrimki?

Okay, let's give this a try. I close my eyes and concentrate as hard as I can, trying to force power to my fingertips. I visualize the rose I gave Lily, whole, then imagine the petal falling off and getting reattached. Come on, James. You know how to do this. Auror training, wandless spells, come on! I shout the last word in my head, and suddenly, the flower petal in my hand animates, and begins to slowly, very slowly, inch toward the sun. I pour a little more energy into it, and the petal goes shooting off in a straight line. No no no, not that fast! I relax the power a little.

Then, I walk on after it. It's really hard to walk and spell at the same time, I've realized now, and I need to redo the charm a few times.

The petal goes in an unwavering straight line, and I have to climb and duck all the obstacles it only bypasses. Somehow, it doesn't hit a single tree, yet I've hit just about a dozen already. Unfair. Still, I'm in better spirits now that I've got a lead, at least.

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

I know how to filter dirty water, for some reason I'm not sure of, but I don't know how to filter polluted water. I might as well try, though. I dig into the gravel stream bed, which isn't an easy task with your bare hands. My nails are getting a little bloody around the edges, but hey, better that than being dehydrated, right?

My hole's about a foot deep when I hear a rustling behind me. Uh oh. That's not good. I dash for the opposite side of the stream, and duck behind a tree. Who knows what kinds of wild animals live in these woods? A figure emerges from the lengthening shadows. Then something zooms toward me, the size of a quarter. It heads straight for the wilting flower tucked into my belt, and then, it joins with it.

Upon close inspection, it's a fallen petal. And I'm pretty sure I know who the figure that just emerged from the trees is.

"Lily! Lily!" He calls. Should I be answering? I fight an internal debate.

On one hand, he's just displayed evidence that he has some sort of supernatural power to command nature. On another, he's my only chance to get out of here. He's a stuck up prat. One side argues. But then why would he come looking for me for hours, in the dark? To save his face. A snide voice says. But even to me, that sounds like a weak argument. Save face, lose life? No one in their right mind would do that. So he must be genuinely concerned, to some extent.

The go-reveal-yourself-to-a-potentially-dangerous-sorcerer side of me wins over the let's-keep-your-dignity-and-die-out-here-alone-in-the-dark side, and I step out from behind the tree, slowly, preparing myself to dodge flying knives or something.

"Hello, Potter."

Eternally grateful, Lily, remember?

* * *

><p><strong>So, how'd you like it? I had an idea, at the bottom of this chapter, I could post how far along I am into writing the next chapter, so that you guys can kind of predict when to check back into this story. The steps could be, intro, body, closing, editrevising. What do you think? **

**How did you like this chapter? Thoughts? Comments? Suggestions? Constructive criticism? Let me know in the reviews. Also, one other person followed Lily and James into this universe. Can you guess who? Let me know! **

**From,**

**Spirit**


	6. Found

**Hey guys! I'm back. Again. For the sixth time. You get it. Thanks to my reviewers, MSupernatural, GabbiGr, Fyrebolt, and Guest! You guys rock! Without you, this chapter would have waited until summer vacation. Thanks a million and more, guys! (I didn't believe anyone would read this when I started it.)**

**Just wondering, would anyone like to beta this? It wouldn't be a very strenuous job, as I write about as fast as a snail can ballroom dance, but it's be nice to have someone for reference, to look over my work. If you would, could you PM me? This chapter, the prince saves the damsel in distress, then she saves them both. Even trade. As always, I own everyone but Lily, James, their old universe, and the person that led them here, who is going to turn up, sometime in the distant future. **

**Happy reading, **

**Spirit**

* * *

><p>James<p>

Words can't describe the relief I felt when Lily came out from behind that tree. I really badly wanted to just scoop her up right then and run her where nothing could touch her, and she couldn't put herself in danger. Though I don't think Lily would take kindly to that.

"What were you _thinking_?" I admonish her. She blushes, and looks down at her feet, for a second losing her composure. Then she straightens up again. Her face molds into the familiar mask. Clearly, I'm now the one being interrogated.

"_I_ was thinking that I should get away from the _danger_ as fast as I could. You know, survival instinct? That didn't work quite as well as I expected. The danger seems to have a way of finding me." Yeah, Lily, I do, and it wasn't easy, either. But I'm not dangerous.

"I'm not going to hurt you." She quirks an eyebrow at me, in the classic sarcastic sure-you-won't expression.

"Look, if I wanted to, wouldn't I have done it by now?" I sigh, exasperated.

"That occurred to me. Why haven't you done anything to me by now?"

Because I'm not going to, _seriously_? Is it _really_ that hard to accept that? But why is she still standing there if she thinks I could be a risk? I tell her this. Oh, I could probably have predicted her answer.

"You're my only way out. "

"Er, hate to tell you this, but thanks to you, I'm just as clueless as you are as to how to get out of here."

In my haste to follow the flower petal, I forgot to keep track of where I was going. Great. Now we're both stranded in nowhere. That's probably not good.

"Now what?"

"You tell me."

Well, at least we'll have plenty of bonding time. Probably the only positive aspect of this situation.

"We could try to follow the stream. Have you got any better ideas?" I shake my head no. Honestly, I know about as much about wilderness survival as I know about the muggle machine the vellytishon. Its name, nothing else.

"What now, then?"

"Pick right or left." She asks me. Erm, okay?

"Left."

Lily turns in that direction, downstream, then she and I begin to walk down the stream, me following her, for about half an hour, hitting rocks, slipping into the water, before she suddenly stops. I nearly fall into her.

"Wait a minute.'' She's got an idea. Uh oh.

"We're going in the wrong direction! I know how to get back now!" She exclaims. Lily starts pacing back and forth, muttering to herself, occasionally dipping a hand into the polluted stream. Yeah, yeah, that's excellent. Now would you mind telling me how? 'Cause quite frankly, I'm getting a little thirsty, hungry, tired, and cross.

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

Okay, so if this stream is polluted, there has to be a point somewhere that pollutes it. City, town, village, factory, doesn't matter. It's a human dwelling. Good enough. The question is, is it close enough for us to reach on foot before we run out of energy? I don't think we can afford to sleep here. We've got no protection, no sustenance, no nothing. That's what I'm trying to figure out. Potter-the-sorcerer is staring at me like I'm crazy. Huh. It would be the girl that knows how to survive in the harsh outdoors.

I dip my hand into the stream. The temperature is high, that could mean that the contamination is high as well, but maybe the temperature is normal for California. I don't know. The water is translucent, but that could either mean that there's a small amount of pollution being put into the water close by, or that the pollution source is large but miles upstream. Either way, it has to be upstream, so to the east.

"James, do you know if there's anything east of us around here?" He shrugs. Uck. Useless boy.

East of us would lead toward the same direction as the building we left from, but I don't know how many miles away from that we are. I do know that the area is covered with small tourist's towns, mainly for the rich, from my research back home in England. My hotel would probably be farther from my current location than the studio, but I'm not sure of that. Did I see any polluted streams on the way to the parade grounds? That seems so long ago, despite the fact that it was only this morning. This morning, I was actually safe, and my life was normal. I snort. Not now.

So. Polluted streams. I saw a stream bed while I was walking here, I think. That could be the same stream as this one. Maybe it was just dammed up, or something. That means following this stream upriver could lead us to some sort of a residence, possibly close by. It's a risk, but a risk we'll have to take.

Potter's looking at me like I'm crazy.

* * *

><p>James<p>

Okay? I'm not sure how washing your hands is going to help us find a way out of here, but I think I should trust Lily. I'm not sure, but I think. After all, who else is there to rely on out here but her? Certainly not myself. I grew up with Quidditch and balls, not any sort of nature. The closest I've been to the muggle sport of camping, which Lily loves, is that one day of Auror training where we had to do a training exercise in the woods. That didn't turn out so well, (more people got hit with trees than spells,) and we never tried that again.

Alright, Lily's straightening up, I better listen for the verdict.

"Based on my estimations, factoring in elements of the situation which would probably go in your left ear and out your right, if we were to go upstream for a few miles, there is a possibility that we could hit a human residence where we could use a phone to call for transportation back to your studio, and for me to go back to my family." Woah. Back up. Big words. I got the general meaning, though, so all's well.

Lily furrows her eyebrows at me.

"Wait, don't you have some sort of spell for all of this? Or a cell phone?"

Well, I can't do anything without a wand, and my magic screws up every electronic I touch, so no, I don't have any of the above mentioned items. I tell her so, though perhaps a little less sarcastically, and she nods.

"Fine then, I guess we're going with my idea." Yeah.

"Come on."

And, we trek _all_ the way back to the place we started from, again, over rocks, under trees, through the water. Once we pass the starting point, we continue upriver, for who knows how long. The sky's completely dark now, the only light from the moon reflecting on the dirtied stream. There's no artificial light as far as I can see, which just adds to my bleak spirits. But I continue on, because, quite frankly, it's that or to admit defeat, and just become a cannibal that lives out in the woods forever. That doesn't seem too appealing to me, so, all the while we're walking, I repeat two words over and over again. Left, right, Left, right, only thinking about moving my feet. Lily seems still alert, though I can't imagine why. She's looking around at the surroundings, analyzing, calculating. What's there to see? Darkness? That's it, to my knowledge. Minutes drag into hours, drag into a queer numbness. Before I know it, something's shaking me, shouting. I swat at the sound. Stupid fly. But apparently, the fly has other ideas, and hits me across the face. That gets me up.

"What?" Two green orbs stare at me, wreathed by a garland of orange. Something's different. What is it? Then it occurs to me. Shadows are sliding across Lily's face, and shadows mean, light!

I scramble to my feet, and sure enough, in the distance, just barely visible over the treetops, there are a few lights zooming back and forth. A highway, I think. Finally. So it's not exactly a residence, like we had hoped. It's still a sight better than the endless line of forest.

Lily's about twenty feet away before she turns back to me, peering expectantly, eyes bright again, because at least now we have hope.

'Well? Are you coming?"

"Yeah."

* * *

><p>Lily<p>

Finally, we've made it into contact with some humans. What do we do now? Even though it's not a residence, like I had anticipated, it's better than nothing. I suppose we'll just have to hitchhike, some way or another. It doesn't seem as far to the highway as it did while we were walking through the dark, but Dad used to tell me, distance always seems shorter when there's something waiting for you at the other end, in one rare moment of insight. I agree, now. After what only seems like a few minutes of walking by the dim light of the busy road, Potter and I have arrived at the edge.

Imagine what we must look like to other people now. While before, Potter was idolized by so many around the world, now he just looks like any other homeless boy. Ragged clothes, probably dirty face and hands, twigs in his hair. I can't actually see too well. His appearance ruined? Good. He might need a dose of humility. A nice, big one. Cars are speeding us by, even as I try to stick my thumb out for a ride. Yeah, that would make sense. Who wants to pick up some smelly hobos, anyway?

Someone flips us the bird, probably the thirtieth car to pass us by.

"Any ideas? Because I'm not sure this one is working," I ask Potter, albeit sarcastically. Of course it's not working. A blind man could see that. He shrugs. Classic. Just sit around and hope that the other person does your work for you.

That's it. I've had enough of this git. All pretenses of friendliness gone, I whip around and walk away from him as fast as my legs will take me. He can figure out a way back to his home, wherever that is, by himself. I'm certainly not helping him any more. After I'm a comfortable distance away, I stop, and try again at getting a car to stop for me. This time, one stops,to my surprise, in under twenty seconds. Crazy coincidence.

Potter's waving from a window, next to a girl that has her eyes wide with excitement and is bouncing in her seat. Now, I've half a mind to let this car pass by, purely because of the smug smirk on Potter's face. But then. I'd be stuck here for weeks, probably. So when the automatic door slides open with a mechanical creaking sound, I grab the handle and hoist myself in.

As I get myself seated, I thank the driver of the car profusely. I need to be polite, especially since she's just saved me from a potentially stretched out and boring death. The woman looks kind, and familiar in a way. She must have just one of those faces, I guess. The girl's still squealing with delight, and quite frankly, it's a little annoying. He's just a boy that got lucky in the movie industry. So what?

Then again, he's probably why this car stopped for me, and his magic tricks were what got me out of this mess, so, I have no right to complain.

(Too bad. I'm going to do it anyway.)

Potter must have given her the address of the studio, because the mechanical voice on a GPS directs the car into the parking lot of the building. Reporters are swarming all over the place, but then I realize, Potter is probably the reason for that. After all, he's gotten another girl, taken her out, and then the two have gone missing. Though how that information got out, I have no idea. Right now, I have to get away from this place and back to my family. But, sadly, the media has other plans.

Outside the window of the car I'm sitting in, bulbs are flashing on oversized cameras, and cameramen are pressed up against the window. I have no idea how we managed to miss this lot on the way out. Oh, wait, it's Potter and I, separate beings, not we, a collective group.

Well, apparently he's dealt with this kind of thing before, because he begins to usher the anonymous girl out of the van. Her mother holds up a hand to stop him, telling him that they should really be getting home, and thanks for the opportunity to meet a movie star.

"Alright, thanks again," he says to her, and then opens the door and forces him and myself through the door and the crowd.

"Where have you been, Mr. Potter?" One bearded guy asks, wielding a pencil and already scribbling furiously on a notepad while walking along with us.

"No comment."

"Who's this young lady with you?" Another man asks.

"No comment." Yeah. That seems to be the answer to everything. I'm really surprised Petunia hasn't sold out my identity to the press, yet.

"Is it true that you dye your hair with riverbed mud, sir?"

Potter stares at that man, horrified.

"What?" I snort. I should really get to know that reporter.

Way too late for me, Potter drags me through the last stretch of the crowd, to the locked entrance, which bangs open, revealing a gray haired lady. She pulls us in roughly, then slams the door and locks it again. Potter and I lean against the door, relieved. The lady gives us two seconds to catch our breath before she plants her hands on her hips and glares menacingly at the boy next to me.

"Where have you _been_, James?"

* * *

><p><strong>So, was it terrible? Let me know! Sorry about the wait, but my parents think I'm practicing for the competition right now, when I'm really putting down the damper pedal and banging a random key on the piano every now and then. That's been how I was writing most of the time. Still, this little bit was made! So... <strong>

**Thanks for reading, from, **

**Spirit**


	7. Author's Note

Hey Everyone,

I looked back at my story, and realized, I can write better than this. I think the low quality writing is because I'm writing with a deadline, something I'm not used to. Also, I'm out of my comfort zone with the style. This is what I call popular fiction writing style, and it's really hard to translate my own writing style into this one. From now on, I'm going to write for myself, not for an audience, because, hey, I don't need to write for the audience yet. So over the summer break, I'm going to rewrite what I've got so far on Second Chance, and add some more. I'll be back in August, with a better story. Thanks for supporting me, guys!

Thanks,

Spirit


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